


Pardon Us, But That's OUR Traumatized Demon

by ranguvar82



Series: Silence and Strength [19]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Gen, POV Outsider, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:47:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23086507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranguvar82/pseuds/ranguvar82
Summary: The villagers know three things for certain. One, Crowley isn't human. Two, he has severe trauma. And three, nobody messes with him if they can help it.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Silence and Strength [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630903
Comments: 12
Kudos: 322





	Pardon Us, But That's OUR Traumatized Demon

Pardon Us, But That’s OUR Traumatized Demon

Dahlia Richards whistled to herself as she set about opening up the garden shop she ran with her father, Green Thumbs. It was shaping up to be a rather lovely day, with not a cloud in the sky and a pleasantly mild temperature. She set the rose pots in the window, arranged the ferns around them, then after making sure all the plants were watered, flipped the sign to OPEN. Dan came in from the back, wiping his hands on his gardener’s apron. “Looking good, my gal. Gonna be busy today. Start of tourist season.”

Dahlia made a face. “Ugh. Lots of obnoxious knobs from London coming down and throwing their weight around. Wish they’d bugger off someplace else.” Dan laughed.

“I know how you feel, but them tourists do keep us in business, after all.” He untied his apron, hanging it on a hook behind the counter. “Wouldn’t do no good to run them off and lose business.”

“Bugger that, the best business we’ve been getting has been from Tony. Last week ‘e bought twenty pounds of potting soil and practically every bloody apple sapling we ‘ad. Paid more money for them than I’d ever seen in my life. And ‘e also bought ten pots of Dahlias.”

As if the name had summoned him, the bell over the door jangled and Anthony J(and nobody in the village knew what the J stood for) Crowley came sauntering in, grinning at them. “Tony!” Dahlia grinned widely, and Crowley made a face. “Sorry. ANTHONY. How are ya?” Crowley gave her a thumbs up, and Dahlia’s grin got even wider. “Wunnerful. Where’s your other half?” Everyone in the village knew that where Tony was, there also was Ezra. Crowley rolled his eyes, pointed behind him, and opened a pretend book. “O course he is. ‘E asn’t bought the ‘ole store yet?” Crowley laughed in his silent way, shaking his head, then waved his hand to indicate the store, looking inquisitive. “Got a few new rose bushes in, and there’s some cherry saplin’s in back.” A nod. “Da! Tony...(another scowl, and Dahlia simply smirked) ANTHONY wants to see the cherries.”

“Right. Come on then, Anthony.” Dan led Crowley into the yard, and Dahlia laughed to herself.

The door jangled again and an older couple, clearly tourists by the look of them, came in. “Hello, welcome to Green Thumbs. Were you looking for anything in particular?”

The lady looked down her nose at the teen. “I highly doubt you’d be able to help us. Just leave us alone and let us find things for ourselves.”

“Right. Well, have at it.” Under her breath, Dahlia muttered “Miserable cow.” She set to work pruning some of the potted plants, turning at a sound from the back. Tony was coming in, and Dahlia once again found herself wondering how the hell someone as whip thin as he was could be so bloody strong. He was carrying the largest cherry sapling slung over his shoulder as if it weighed no more than a feather, and Dahlia knew that it had taken both her and her Da twenty minutes to manhandle it from their back garden into the back garden of the shop, and their muscles had been screaming with pain. “That the one?” A grin and a nod, and Crowley set it in front of the counter before heading over to the rose plants.

Tourist Couple was still perusing, and Dahlia kept a close eye as Lady Tourist(her husband following like a whipped dog) came to stand just behind Tony. Mrs. Tourist sighed huffily, tapping her foot, and made an exaggerated face. Crowley ignored her, carefully inspecting the petals on the roses in front of him.

“EXCUSE ME!!” The woman’s shout was loud, and Crowley jumped in terror, spinning around and throwing his hands up in front of his face. “WOULD YOU PLEASE MOVE, YOU STUPID IDIOT?! I WANT TO LOOK AT THAT ROSE AND YOU ARE IN MY WAY, YOU IGNORANT MORON!”

Crowley, paralyzed with fear, could only stare at her, shaking. Noise. So much noise. He needed Aziraphale. Noise. Too much noise…

“OH MY GOD, ARE YOU SLOW OR SOMETHING? MOVE. GET OUT OF MY WAY!”

Crowley couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe, he could feel himself starting to have a panic attack and his angel was still at the bloody damned bookstore and his vision was starting to go hazy and his legs were shaking and he was going to have a bloody panic attack because of some stupid mortal in a stupid ugly outfit and she was shouting and his ears were drumming…

“...need to leave.” Dahlia. That was Dahlia. Good kid. Right now, she sounded beyond pissed. Tourist Lady looked triumphant.

“Well?! You heard her! GET OUT!” The woman surged forward and shoved him, sending him crashing to the floor. He keened in horror, breath coming out in harsh sobs as the panic attack hit him full force.

“Actually, Ma’am, I meant you.” Dahlia glared at the lady, who had the gall to look affronted.

“What? I am a paying customer and you cannot...”

“Ma’am. You have two choices. One, you leave now. Or two, I call his husband and tell him that you assaulted Tony. And trust me, you do not want Ezra Fell pissed at you.”

“FINE. But I am going to tell all my friends to never buy anything from here! You’ll be out of business in a week! Come along, Harold.” Mr and Mrs. Tourist left, and Dahlia knelt in front of Crowley.

“Tony?” Crowley, still in the depths of his attack, didn’t even look at her. “Hey, I’m gonna call Ezra, okay?” A quick, jerky nod of the head. Dahlia pulled out her phone and dialed. “Ezra? It’s Dahlia. Listen, Tony’s having a pretty bad attack. Some asshole tourist screamed at him. No, that’s okay. They’re gone now. Okay. I’ll tell him.” She hung up. “Ezra’s on his...”

“Crowley?!”

“Way. That was quick.”

Crowley went stiff, then turned to his left. He blinked, then with a keening wail, threw himself into Aziraphale’s arms, clinging to him. “Shhh...it’s okay, Star Maker. I’m here. Dahlia, thank you for calling me.”

“Not a problem. We’re all pretty fond of you two, you know.”

Aziraphale smiled as he stroked Crowley’s spine, whispering in some weird language. “And the feeling is mutual, my dear.” Crowley nodded, then moved his hand from around Aziraphale long enough to point at the sapling. “It’s lovely, my demon. For in the garden?” A nod. “Wonderful. I’ve wanted to try making cherry pie.”

Dahlia grinned(and had a brief moment of confusion at Tony being called ‘demon’ as a pet name). “Save some for me if you do, I love cherry pie.”

Aziraphale beamed. “But of course. Crowley, love? You ready to go?” A nod. “Would you like to get some lunch or do you just want to go home?” Crowley held up a finger. “Okay. We’ll get it to go, how does that sound?” A nod. “You pay yet?” Crowley shook his head. “I’ll take care of it.”

Once the sapling was paid for and placed in the back of Richard’s old truck for delivery, Crowley and Aziraphale headed into the Giraffe. Crowley stopped so quick that Aziraphale almost ran into him. “Dear, what is it?” Crowley pointed a trembling finger at the counter, where a couple wearing gaudy tourist clothing was standing, the woman shrieking at Denise Carter, the new girl that Evelyn had hired.

“NO MAYO. HOW HARD IS THAT TO UNDERSTAND?! NO. MAYO.”

“Ma’am, the sandwich does not come with mayonnaise. You have to ask for it. That is what I have been saying.” Denise was on the verge of tears.

“Excuse me?” Aziraphale stepped forward, smiling his Bastard Smile at the woman.

“What?!”

“I was wondering if perhaps I could ask you something?”

“Yeah, what?”

The smile grew even more bastardly. (Crowley deeply regretted the fact that his angel wasn’t big on the whole PDA thing, because bless it did he want to snog him senseless right now) “Are you having some trouble with comprehension? I can certainly sympathize if you are. After all, one wouldn’t be expected to understand the subtle nuances of a very complex menu such as this one, which would certainly baffle even the most intelligent of people. It can be very difficult to differentiate between a sandwich that clearly comes without any condiments and one that has them all included. Perhaps you need someone to decipher its’ code for you?”

The woman blinked, then turned purple. “ARE YOU CALLING ME STUPID?!”

“No, not at all. Merely...uninformed.” Aziraphale smiled, and Crowley whined in need. The woman glared at him. “Now, if you would be so kind as to step aside so we can place our orders. My husband and I would like to get home and snog.”

Crowley nodded eagerly, and Denise giggled. The woman snorted. “Well! Now I see what sort of a place this town really is. Don’t want the important people shopping here. You’ve lost a customer, just like that plant shop.” The couple huffed out, and Denise sighed in relief.

“Thanks, Ezra. You and Tony want the usual?” Aziraphale nodded. “Right. Should be about ten minutes.”

“Sounds good.” Aziraphale grinned at Crowley. “Tony?”

‘Don’t ask me, angel. Half the bloody village calls me that.’ He sighed. ‘Not that I mind...too much.’

After Ezra and Tony left, Denise ran to the back and told Evelyn what had happened. Evelyn rang up Dahlia, who told her about the woman’s behavior in the Green Thumbs. After exchanging small talk, Evelyn hung up, then proceeded to ring the other businesses, giving them a very good description of the woman. Within five minutes, every owner knew what she looked like, and every store she went into told her “I’m so sorry, we were just closing/that item’s not for sale/we don’t have what you’re after, I’m afraid.”

The villagers knew three things for certain. One. Anthony J. Crowley was most definitely not human. Two. He had some severe trauma in his past. And three, Nobody, BUT NOBODY, messed with him if they could help it.

(A week later, Dahlia received a gift of the best cherry pie she had ever eaten in her life)


End file.
